


Retrieval

by Lanerose



Category: Leverage
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 10:48:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7841776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lanerose/pseuds/Lanerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie has a job for Eliot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retrieval

Sophie had been watching Nate since it happened. She was unfortunately otherwise engaged at the time that Sam fell ill, and wound up not hearing about how serious his illness had gotten until just after he passed away. She flew to Los Angeles immediately after it happened, as soon as she got the news, and then when she got there she tried to figure out what she should do. Should she go to him? But no, Maggie would be at his side (Maggie had bloody well better be at this side), and there had never been any space for her while Maggie was in the picture. Should she go to the wake? The funeral? Would it be appropriate for a criminal like her to show up to pay her respects, or would it make things worse?

In the end, she decided that it wouldn’t be inappropriate for her to show up to the funeral. She sat in rear pews, watching as the small casket was carried up the aisle and placed for the service. Sophie had thought that Nate would be one of his son’s pallbearers, but the moment she got her first real look at him – pale, drawn, visibly trembling, and with a slight glaze in his eyes – she knew why he wasn’t acting as a pallbearer. He seemed barely able to carry himself, never mind his son’s body. Maggie had an arm around him, and it seemed that the only way either of them remained standing was by leaning against each other.

It was a lovely service.

“In today’s gospel, we hear about Mary, who when her Jesus arrived for a visit after her brother Lazarus died, fell at his feet and shouted, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’” The priest, a Father Paul who had mentioned being a longtime friend of the family, said during the homily. “We, too, cry out at the loss of Sam, taken from us too soon. What’s important to remember in this difficult time is that just as Jesus wept with Mary over Lazarus, Jesus is also here with us, weeping for Sam. And just as he raised Lazarus, the time will come when all our tears are at an end, and the Lord will turn our tears to joy, and raise Sam and all our dearly departed into the life of his eternal light.”

At the end of the service, Father Paul came and walked beside the Fords as they slowly processed out of the church. Sophie turned away, hiding her face lest Nate (or one of his colleagues) recognize her. She caught a ride to the cemetery with a couple who claimed to have been the Fords’ neighbors, and given the remarkably wholesome group in the church, they probably were.   There were so many children. Sam had been popular, a charmer just like his father.

Sophie didn’t approach the grave during the final service, preferring to stand just out of sight among the trees. A woman in black with flowers in a cemetery never did draw much attention. Nate . . . . Well. He stood arm in arm with Maggie, a white rose clutched so tightly in his hand that she was sure the thorns on it drew blood from his palms. She sees a couple of drops fall from his hand as he releases the rose to rest on the coffin after it has been lowered into the ground. Maggie didn’t appear to notice, and so the blood continues to drip from Nate’s hand into the earth beside his son’s grave. Nate’s eyes filled with tears that did not fall, and Sophie, out of sight and ear range, sobbed for both of them. Maggie and Father Paul forced Nate into a limousine, with Jim Sterling standing a surprising few steps behind them. Sterling stopped them and wrapped his handkerchief around Nate’s hand, resisting Nate’s feeble efforts at forcing him away. She concluded, reluctantly, that Sterling did in fact have a functioning heart after all. But Nate was in good hands, and so she didn’t go to the post-funeral wake.

Afterwards, Nate returned to work for IYS. When she eventually heard the whole story, she would marvel at the fact that he managed it, however poorly it must be conceded that he did so.

He was still brilliant, even when he was drinking. IYS seemed to think he would recover eventually, or they must have, to have kept him on the payroll. Nate hadn’t been paired with Sterling for nearly a year, not since Sterling gained enough of a reputation to be sent out on his own and as a senior partner. IYS had always been greedy, not stupid, though, and so after Sam, Blackpoole sent Nate out paired with Sterling once more to run down criminals. But word got around. The terrifying Nate Ford, whose name had once sent shivers down the spine of every thief, who had insulated IYS, wasn’t as sharp – was just that little bit sloppier. He got shot in Budapest, just a graze, and then six months later was stabbed in Kiev.

Three weeks after the stabbing, with Nate recovered enough to be out of the hospital, Sophie ran a job in Sierra Leone, her first job in nearly a year. The job was big enough that IYS would have to send Nate out after her. For Cezanne’s The Card Players they could do no less. Sophie had, in truth, been largely out of the game after some major scores, but the need to be sure he was still up to the task of catching her itched until she’d surrendered to it.

Sophie caught a glimpse of him when he arrived. His eyes were hazy coming off the plane, with that subtle wobble in his step that those with a reason to knew to associate with an alcoholic.  She knew it was a risk to stay on in town with him after her, but to leave now would be to confess her guilt. Instead, she dressed in her finest and went to the most exclusive parties she could find, taking jewels like candy off men with more money than sense.

“Ms. Devereaux,” Sterling said when he approached her as she dazzled a room in Freetown. “Or is there another name you would prefer tonight? What an unexpected surprise.”

Sophie turned from where she had been watching Nate at the bar as he gulped down another scotch, paused precisely long enough to glance at Sterling and roll her eyes before refocusing. Nate had had three so far and was already reaching for a fourth, without even seeming to glance around him. Sterling followed her gaze and shook his head.

“I’m afraid that this is the last time you’ll see your paramour chasing you for IYS,” he said, sliding his hands in his pockets. “Word’s already come from headquarters; he’s too unstable to keep on the job any more.”

Sophie turned to Sterling, eyes widening involuntarily. “Surely they wouldn’t –“

“Ms. Devereaux, we work for a corporation, not a charity,” he said. “If you think the company would have any more difficulty letting a man who has become dead weight go than it did denying a claim that could have saved the life of it’s second best investigator’s only child, you are sorely mistaken.”

She froze. In the ensuing silence, Sterling grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing server, downing it in one go and setting the empty glass on a nearby table.

“You will return the Cezanne by tomorrow morning,” Sterling said, “or I will have you arrested both for that theft and for a number of others that Nate has hinted you committed but, for whatever reason, charges were never pursued after the items were recovered. I doubt he’s told me all of them, but I’m sure I’ve got enough to put you away for quite some time.”

He turned to leave, stopped, and turned back to her.

“Of course,” he said, “so long as it is returned to IYS, I have no particular preference for whom you give it to.”

Sterling turned and was gone before Sophie recovered her voice. She turned back to where Nate was leaned against the bar, downing yet another scotch. For hours, she wandered the room, chatting with other guests, keeping an eye on Nate the whole time. He never spotted her, focused on his scotch the entire time. When he was practically passing out from the alcohol, she slipped an arm under his shoulders and helped him back to his hotel room.

Sophie left the Cezanne in Sterling’s room and left town.

Nate didn’t exactly disappear after that. Well, he kind of did and he didn’t. IYS fired him, as Sterling had assured her they would. She ran into other thieves and grifters and would casually inquire after any gossip of him, and to a one they all said that he had fallen out of the game, and wasn’t it a shock? Sophie moved to Chicago and joined up with a theatre troupe, but checked with friends in the area every week for Nate’s continued welfare.

And if Sophie occasionally hopped on a plane to LA and drove past places where she knew Nate would be, well, that was just one friend checking up on another while she was in town for auditions. He was seldom sober enough for her to be at any risk, anyway. She would find him, almost unconscious from the alcohol consumption, and bundle him back home, stopping only to brush the hair from his face after dumping him on his couch before she vanished into the rising sun.

“So, you in on this warehouse thing?” An old friend asked from the other side of a phone line one day as she was getting dressed for a performance of the Scottish play. “I hear your favorite boy is in on it.”

“What warehouse thing?” Sophie asked. She laughed casually, ignoring the sudden racing of her heart.

“Ah-hah!” The voice crowed. “Something even the great Sophie Devereaux doesn’t know!

“Oh, there are lots of things I don’t know,” Sophie protested. “But what’s all this about then? Don’t be a tease!”

“You like me as a tease,” the woman replied, “but I think you’ll want to know this regardless. There was an explosion at a warehouse not far from you, and word is that Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison, and Parker all got brought into the hospital afterwards – and then escaped from it, with a guy who matches the description of your Nate Ford!”

Sophie stopped at that, letting the silence drag too long and break the flow of conversation. She takes a breath and says, “But none of those people - “

“I know!”

“And Parker’s – “

“Right?!”

“Besides, he wouldn’t – “ She stopped, and there was silence for a moment.

“Oh, thanks!” The voice on the other end of the line said, obviously not to her. “Listen, I’ve got to go, but call me and let me know how things work out.”

“Of course,” she replied, though in truth the answer is probably not.

There was a knock on her door, and someone shouted, “Five minutes till curtain!”

The show must go on, so it did. Afterwards, Sophie gathered her things quickly. She paused to check her reflection in the mirror, hiking her skirt up. The Blarney Stone was the local cop bar, and someone there could probably give her the details on this recent caper that allegedly involved Nate Ford. She stepped out the stage door, though, and there he was. Cheeky bugger.

Sophie didn’t think that she’d ever met Parker, Hardison, or Spencer, but there are three people standing with Nate, looking like they’re ready to bolt or jump someone at the slightest excuse.   Nate looked like a wreck. His hair was everywhere, a stray lock drifting across his forehead, dark circles under eyes that were sunk into his face, and thin where he’d once had a wiry strength. He applauded her though, slowly and sincerely.

“My only fan,” she said, walking forward and right into his personal space. “I’m a citizen now. Honest.”

“I’m not,” he said, and quirked his head sideways. So the rumors were true.

“You’re playing my side.” She paused, watching as a smile quirked the corners of his lips, brightening his eyes. Sophie glanced at the team behind him and let a smile come to her own face. “I always thought you had it in you.”

Nate took a moment to straighten his face. The life didn’t fade from his eyes, even as the seriousness that she’d always enjoyed replaced his mirth. “Are you in?”

She nodded. As if that were a question. “I wouldn’t miss this.”

“All right,” he said, “let’s go break the law, just one more time.”

Sophie joined them in their car, driving off to presumably their hideout. She yawned once, large enough for Nate to spot it in the rear view mirror.

“You know,” Nate said, “it’s been kind of a long day, with all the getting blown up, and I’m sure Sophie must be tired after the performance. “

“No kidding,” Spencer grumbled, “it’s not like we had to escape from a hospital and then sit through four hours of Shakespeare. You got a point?”

Sophie glanced at Parker then, catching a micro-smile on Parker’s face, and offered a full smile of her own in return.

“I think we can hold off on planning until tomorrow.   Is there somewhere we can drop you off for the night, Sophie?” Nate asked.

“Of course.” Sophie said. “I’m living in a flat in Wicker Park. And if anyone needs spare space to sleep, I’ve got a couch that you can use.”

“That’s a great idea,” Nate replied. “Hardison, Spencer and I will stay with you. Parker, you can take Sophie’s couch, and we’ll pick you up in the morning.”

“What is this, bro, summer camp?” Hardison asked, rolling his eyes. “Boys here, girls there?”

“I don’t trust her,” Parker said, “are you just trying to make it easier to take us out, Nathan? Splitting us up so that you can go after us one at a time?”

Nate stopped the car and turned around to look at her.

“Fine, you wouldn’t do that,” Parker huffed, “but I still don’t know her.”

“Nate,” Sophie said, “let’s not make this harder than it has to be. I’m just offering a night on my couch. If it will make everyone more comfortable, I can’t see why you can’t be the one to sleep there. I promise I won’t tell your wife.”

“I don’t think it would matter, seeing as she already divorced me,” Nate said. He turned back to the street and drove on in silence.

When they reached her apartment Sophie climbed out of the back seat and turned around expectantly. Nate waited until she had closed the door and drove away. Sophie sighed and headed inside.

The next day, Sophie was curled up on a couch with a mug of tea and watching a (frankly impressive) slideshow about Victor Dubenich when Spencer happened to mention a small town in Cao Bang province where an unknown hero had once saved Victor Strellin from a con of hers that had gone south (and himself). When the presentation ended, she found a moment to pull him to the side.

“Spencer,” she started, cutting herself off when he gave her a look. “Eliot. You’re a retrieval specialist, aren’t you?”

“Have you not been paying any attention?” Eliot asked. “Clearly I’m a grifter, which is why my role in all of this has been grifting. Yes, I’m a retrieval specialist!”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She waived a hand gently at him. “I just meant… well… I have a job for you, if you’re interested.”

“What job could I possibly do right now that won’t conflict with the job that we’re already trying to do?”

Sophie looked across the room. Nate and Hardison were bent together over a computer, Nate calling the shots as Hardison worked some form of computer magic. Eliot turned and followed her gaze, freezing a little when he saw them.

“You don’t con your crew.” He growled at her. Sophie took a sip from her mug and sighed, setting her face into a frown.

“Don’t think of it as a con,” she said. “Eliot, you know about Nate, right? About how his son died, and he kept working for the company that denied the insurance claim for a procedure that could have saved his son’s life, right?”

“Is that what happened?” Eliot folded his arms and leaned back in his seat. “That’s…”

“Awful, isn’t it?” Sophie said. She straightened up and leaned toward Eliot. “You know what Nate Ford used to be like. And more than that you know how well he ran a con even while half-drunk, since I don’t think he’s been sober in quite some time. Can you even imagine how amazing he would be at running a con if he were properly in control of himself again?”

Eliot’s brow furrowed. “And you think you’ve got some kind of job for me that can get him there?”

Sophie waved her hand impatiently, careful not to spill the tea in her other hand. “Nothing that specific, I suppose. I just… I’ve been keeping an eye on him since it happened, and I can tell that he’s doing better since he started working with you. You, and Parker, and Hardison. If you’re not interested in it just because it would be an interesting time – and I think this job will prove just how lucrative it could be – then I’d be happy to pay you to stay on for a while and run jobs with us, at least for a little while. It’s easy money!”

“Almost too easy,” Eliot said. He shook his head. “I don’t do matchmaking, I do retrieval.”

“Perfect!” Sophie replied. “No matchmaking required. Once we’re sure he can stand on his own two feet you’re done. And if he and I haven’t found our way to one another by then, I won’t ask you to stick around.”

Eliot ran a hand through his hair. “If – and I’m not saying I will – but if I agree to help, what specifically would you want me to do?”

Sophie smiled. “Be yourself. That’s most of it, really. Be here, help on the cons, maybe try to encourage him to enjoy himself in general.”

She watched his expression curl into something very near to agreement.

“Only one other thing,” she said, and the hesitance was back in his face. “You know that a large part of what is wrong with him is related to his son’s death. I’d like to condition him out of it.”

“Conditioning?” Eliot asked. “You mean you want to not only run a long con on the guy you want nominally leading our crew, but also you want to screw with his head while you’re doing it?”

She shook her head and wrapped both hands around her mug, leaning forward earnestly. “I want to make him feel something other than pain when his son is mentioned. Try to lessen it a bit. So what I want you to do is bring up his son this afternoon while I’m around but not in the conversation. You signal me once he’s upset –“

“Yeah that’ll take a real long time.”

“ – and I’ll come over and make him feel… something else.”

“Oh, you mean…”

“Lust.” She said it unapologetically and with a fulminating expression that had won over a maharajah in a single glance once. “Or at least curiosity. We’ll do it again during the con until he’s able to hear Sam’s name without looking like he wants to die every time the name is said.”

Eliot looked down, and she knew he was in. She sipped her tea, waiting.

“You’re going to want to start with Parker, if you’re keeping the whole team,” Eliot said eventually. “Hardison will stay for her alone. But before I say yes, you’re going to tell me why.”

“Why what?” Sophie asked.

“Why you care.” Eliot met her eyes steadily. “What’s it to you if Nate Ford is all right, or alive for that matter? And not that bullshit about him being a great mastermind. I’m sure he would be, but there’s plenty of them in the world. Why Nate Ford?”

Sophie hadn’t dropped character in years, but her mask fell for a moment quite without her permission.

“I just…” She paused, looking at the ground. “I need him to be all right.”

She could feel Eliot’s eyes on her for a long moment.

“Well all right then,” he said at length. “Let’s get started.”

It went off without a hitch the first time. She sat at Hardison’s table, fiddling with her ear bud, popping it in and out of her ear just within earshot of Eliot and Nate’s pool game. Eliot had been right – it took all of twenty seconds for Nate to shut Eliot down on the topic of Sam. And whatever Eliot saw on his face – her one regret being that she was, of necessity, behind Nate – she didn’t think it would be helpful for her to know. She walked quickly to him as Eliot walked away, sliding in beside him as if she had always been meant to be there and asked for Nate’s help with her earbud.

Nate slid the earbud in easily, his fingers cold against her ear. She turned and soulgazed him, focusing all her attention on him.

“So this time you really are inside my head,” Sophie said. She stayed a beat longer, then turned away before Nate had a chance to break the moment.

He was always in her head, not that he needed to know that. From their first meeting seven years ago, she had relied on his advice – even if, at the time, it had simply been to keep applying pressure until the ambulance arrived. Getting deep enough into Nathan Ford’s head to get him out of it would be a long con.

That was all right, though. Sophie Devereaux enjoyed a good long con, and she was looking forward to pulling a white rabbit out of her own hat.

**Author's Note:**

> The White Rabbit con, if you’ve forgotten, involves getting inside a person’s mind and slowly changing their personality. Nathan changed Sophie over the years (not explored here, but I headcanon her as being a huge asset to him and playing on his side whenever he wasn’t spoiling her plans), so she’s going to set things to right. Personally, I think the job would be over circa the end of season one, except that by then Nate’s accidentally pulled a White Rabbit on the other three as well, and by so when they come back for season two and beyond they’re all being super sincere. But when Nate asks are about it in Season Five, it’s not like she can tell him that she pulled the White Rabbit on him with their team’s help or give him any details about it, so she lies and says it never happened.
> 
> Also, I’m a stickler for details, which is why I spent twenty minutes trying to figure out what the name of the town Sophie and Eliot discuss in episode one is and where exactly along the border it is. I don’t speak Vietnamese, and the only transliteration of the town name that I could find listed it as Ban Houei Xai, which Google could not locate in Vietnam and actually thought was a misspelling of the capital city of Laos, which happens to be near the China-Laos border. (Laos, incidentally, is directly west of Vietnam, just in case your memory of Asian geography is as shoddy as mine was.) I think what actually happened was that the writers screwed up (although I’m tempted to write fic where this is some super secret code word between Sophie and Eliot), but for argument’s sake let’s pretend that the maps of Vietnam aren’t so woefully blank that I can’t be sure it doesn’t really exist and that the town is where I put it in Cao Bang province.
> 
> And before anyone asks, yes, the person who calls Sophie about the warehouse incident is Tara.


End file.
